by Jenika Snow
“Bethany, sweetheart.”
She gritted her teeth when she heard Steven’s voice, and then saw his car parked a few feet away. Her thoughts had been so jumbled that she hadn’t even realized he was at the house. When she looked back at where Abe had been standing, she saw that he was no longer there.
“We were just talking about you.” Steven was right beside her now, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
A chill of discomfort filled her, but she forced a smile when she saw her father standing on the porch, watching them. “I didn’t know you’d be home.” She spoke to her father, and moved up the steps so she was right in front of him. Thank God Steven had let go of her, because his touch was akin to acid on her flesh.
“I leave this evening.” He spoke around his cigar.
The sickening sweet stench of it surrounded her, but she held in her cough.
“Steven is going with me to close the Browne account.”
She nodded, surprised that her father was bothering to tell her something work-related.
“In fact, Steven, you should just tell your fiancée now instead of waiting.” Her father grinned, but it wasn’t one of those loving, happy ones.
Bethany glanced at Steven, curious as to what would be so important that her father wanted her to know now.
“I’ve made partner, Bethany.” Steven grinned, and before she knew what was happening, she was in his arms and he was kissing her. But the feel of his lips on hers was cold and not the least bit arousing. He pulled away, his grin right back on his face, and turned to look at her father. “Soon I’ll be part of your family by marriage, and even closer by business.”
Of course she didn’t miss how he had classified the business as most important, because to men like Robert Sterling and Steven St. Gerrard, there was nothing more important than that.
Chapter Two
April 2014
The atmosphere of the party would have been nice if she could have gotten over why it was being held. It was just another gathering that flaunted the kind of money her father and mother had, for the people they associated with that were just as narcissistic as they were. Steven had one arm wrapped around her waist, and she had her other hand entwined with his as they danced. He was talking about the wedding, and the plans he had for them as if she didn’t have a say in anything. The few dates they had gone on alone had been less than memorable, and with Steven trying to accelerate a sexual relationship¸ and her continuously turning him down, she could see and feel his impatience and irritation. She glanced around the room and saw her mother in the corner with several of the other wives of her father’s business partners. Dressed in silk, with her ears, neck and wrists dripping with diamonds, her mother looked like some kind of queen amongst her subjects. She acted the part, too.
“You look especially gorgeous tonight, Bethany.”
She pulled her attention away from the crowd. They were the same height, so she was eye level with him. “Thank you, Steven.”
He smiled, but it didn’t look genuine. His short blond hair was impeccably styled, and the tux he wore looked and felt stiff. “You’ve been acting different the closer we get to the wedding. Are you nervous?”
She felt different, but it wasn’t nerves about her upcoming nuptials that made her feel that way. Of course she lied, and it came very easily. “Yes.” Pasting on a saccharine smile, she felt him start to slide his hand lower down her back and curve it over her ass. Something snapped inside of her as disgust settled over her. It was as if her body was acting on its own, and she didn’t know if she could contain or control how she reacted. Steven smiled widely and glanced around, and she knew without him saying anything that he was embarrassed by her refusal of his touch. When he put his attention on her once more a dark mask slowly started to seep through the false veneer of pleasantry that covered his face.
He took a step closer to her, smiled, and said in a low voice, “You’ll do well not to humiliate me in front of the guests, Bethany. This marriage and the image we have to uphold is very important. Joining my family and yours is what is best for everyone, and you continuously trying to pull away and not giving me what I need physically does nothing but make a scene and piss me off.”
She lifted her hand and said, “Please, Steven, not now.” His face grew red. “I’m not sure what that statement was all about, and what we do and don’t do in terms of being sexual together is not appropriate right now.” Her mind and body were telling her to leave, and as she glanced around the room, she realized she was so out of her element. Bethany had always felt this way, like she had been dropped into some kind of Twilight Zone, or into another woman’s body. Without saying anything else she turned and made her way quickly, but without making a scene, out of the room. She didn’t know where she was going, just that she needed some fresh air and to get away from the discomfort.
Moving past the security stationed at intervals throughout the house, she passed guests, priceless paintings and vases, and finally pushed open the backdoor that led out to the gardens. Tears were on the verge of spilling down her cheeks and as she breathed in the fresh, crisp air she didn’t stop them this time. The back patio was made of imported Italian stone, and the gardens in the distance were lit up with what looked like thousands of tiny lights. She walked across the patio, her heels clicking against the stone, and leaned against the rock wall. If she was a stronger person with a thicker backbone, she would have told her father and everyone else to shove this wedding up their asses. But honestly she was frightened, scared of what her life would be without her family, and of being alone. That is what she would be: alone in a world where she was at the mercy of everyone else. Her mother and father might not be the most loving people in the world, but she wanted to believe they did care for her. They had their cold and stiff attitudes, but Bethany could recall the more memorable times, and the smiles and praise they had given her when she had done something that pleased them, but there was also a part of her that knew those times had also been false, their attempts to mold her into the perfect daughter.
* * *
Abe stayed in the shadows, watching as the guests gorged themselves on caviar and champagne, laughed and danced. But it was all a perfectly-played façade. He stared at the object of his obsession, the one woman that he had already deemed his from the moment he’d first seen her. That motherfucker had his hands on her, had her body pulled close to his as they danced slowly. But even from this distance Abe could see how uncomfortable she was. His blood boiled and his heart pumped harder when he watched Steven lower his hand down the center of her back and curl it around her ass, but before Abe snapped, Bethany was slipping from Steven’s hold. As it was this had been a long year, almost too long, as he’d formulated his plan and made the specific requirements to ensure the end result that he’d envisioned. Some might say his mind was not his own if they knew what he was going to do tonight, and they would be correct. He knew he wasn’t sane, but he could play a part just like the rest of them; and never had he wanted anything with as strong an obsessive determination as he wanted Bethany. She looked angry, lifting her hand and pointing to stop Steven. It didn’t take more than a second or two for her to turn and leave him standing there alone and in the middle of the dance floor, and Abe could see the anger that morphed Steven’s face. He watched as Steven got control of himself, how the redness of his anger dissipated when a man and woman came up to him. He played the part well, like they all did, but Abe was trained to see subtle changes, and Steven was a bomb waiting to detonate. He slipped back into the shadows and turned to calculate the surroundings. The ledge beside him held the two champagne flutes, and in his pocket was the powder that would make it easy to take Bethany without struggle. He looked at the men stationed at intervals around the edge of the tree-line. A thick forest surrounded the property, and that was where he would slip through. When they did their synchronized change, the one that he, as head of security, had planned and mapped out for them, he would make his move
. Everything was planned, articulated, and so far falling right into place.
He glanced at his watch and realized he had to pull this off very soon for it to go unnoticed. The next shift would be happening within half an hour, and would happen every half-hour after that. He turned his attention back to the glasses of alcohol and reached into his front pocket for the vial of white powder. He might know her every move, anticipate her stepping out of the house for fresh air like she did at every party that was held, but drugging her was a risk that had to be left up to chance.
* * *
Bethany closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, leaning against the patio banister. Despite still being able to hear the party just feet from her, she tried to place herself outside it all. When she opened her eyes she stared at the twinkling lights in the garden. Her vision was slightly blurry, and she realized it was because she was crying. She hated that, and anger at her own weakness slammed into her fast and hard. Wiping away the wetness, she told herself that one of these days she wouldn’t allow others to dictate her life. She realized that she could just leave right now. No one would stop her, not even security. She could just step off the patio and walk across the lawn. Walking into the woods that surrounded the house would be so easy. In fact, she had the strength at that moment to do it, to just leave everything behind and say fuck it all.
“A young woman shouldn’t be out by herself at night.”
The deep voice that came from behind her instantly had her hart racing and everything around her stilling. She knew, even before turning around, that it was Abe who had spoken. His voice was unusually gruff, with a slight huskiness to it that sent a tingle racing up her spine. He didn’t even have to be directly talking to her, and in fact never had said more than a few words specifically to her in the past year since he had been employed by her father. She turned around, but didn’t see him right away. It was only when he stepped away from the shadows that wrapped around the house that her palms started to sweat and her pulse increased. He wore black fatigues—like he always did—but it wasn’t the fact she knew he was lethal that had her on edge. There was something dark about him, something that had her fight-or-flight instinct rising whenever she was in his presence.
“I am probably the safest I will ever be on this property.” She could see the security stationed around the house, but none of them made her feel like a sheep amongst a predator—except Abe. It was a frightening and exhilarating experience.
“When you think you are the safest—feel the safest—that is when you’re not.” He stepped fully out of the shadows and she noticed he held two champagne flutes.
“Drinking alone?” She was nervous, and her voice stuttered slightly. When he didn’t answer she pointed to the glasses, as if to prove her point.
“Not anymore.” He moved closer to her and when he was only a foot away held out the champagne glass.
Bethany eyed it, and then shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m not much of a drinker.” His expression didn’t change from its stoic level. But then she realized that she desperately needed a drink, and that spending this small amount of time with a man that she didn’t even know, but who made her feel alive, was not something she was going to pass up. “On second thought…” Reaching out and wrapping her hand around the stem, her fingers brushed along his. They were cool from the weather, but the heat she felt in her body from that small touch had beads of sweat lining the valley between her breasts. “Thank you.” Bringing the edge of the glass to her mouth, Bethany took a long sip. The liquid wasn’t chilled, but it was cool enough that the bubbles still tickled her throat.
“Easy,” he said in his deep, gravelly voice.
She lowered her glass after drinking half of it, and felt her cheeks heat that he had noticed her all but guzzling it. For several seconds neither said anything, but it wasn’t that stilted, uncomfortable silence that she found herself involved in when in the company of the people around her. Her body was hyper-aware of Abe’s close proximity, and it was as if she had no control over it. He watched her, but the way he looked at her was so penetrating, so observant, that she knew nothing passed him.
“Are you enjoying the party?” he asked low and evenly. He had yet to drink any champagne, but still held onto his glass.
“Define enjoying.” She smiled, already feeling the bubbles from the champagne move through her body. The flutes didn’t hold much alcohol, but already she felt the effects. Still he said nothing, just moved to the side and set his glass on the ledge of the banister.
“You don’t seem like you are comfortable during these gatherings.” Hands at his side, but posture straight and sure, Abe looked like a man that could singlehandedly level an army. He was so much taller than her own five-foot-six. Maybe not by a foot, but tall enough that she would have to crane her neck back just to look in his face if he stepped any closer.
She shrugged. “No, I suppose I don’t.” Finishing off the rest of her champagne, she turned and set her glass beside his. “You’re not thirsty?” A tickling started at the base of her spine, and slowly moved upward. When she turned and faced him again, the world tilted, and she reached behind her to brace herself on the banister.
He didn’t respond. He took a step toward her, but she noticed that his gaze was trained behind her, scanning from left to right.
“What?” Had she heard him right? When he moved another step closer she inhaled deeply and caught the scent of something darkly spicy. But her head swam, and dizziness slammed into her. She curled her fingers into the stone beneath her and closed her eyes. “You don’t drink?” The words were thick and slow, and when she looked into his face, having to tilt her head back just to stare into his eyes, dread and a certain ease filled her. It was a freeing sensation when he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to his chest. But that was a sick and twisted feeling, seeing as Abe had clearly drugged her, and that realization pumped through her veins every time her heart beat. Placing her hands on his chest, she tried to push him away, knowing that this wasn’t right—even if escaping in this kind of way felt better than the life she had been living. “What are you doing?” That was what she thought, at least, but the words came out slurred and unintelligible.
“Everything will be okay now, Bethany.” He held her tighter.
Her head felt too heavy, and she found herself resting it right over his heart—one that was beating slow and steady. And that was the last thing she realized before everything around her drifted away into comfortable nothingness.
Chapter Three
March 2014
Bethany stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. It was late, going on eleven, but she had needed to go for a swim to clear her head. Her mother and father had wanted to have a small intimate dinner with just them, her and Steven, but once her father and Steven started smoking cigars and drinking brandy she had excused herself. That had been hours ago, though, and she thought it safe enough to venture back inside. Surely they wouldn’t still be talking about the wedding and the firm, and of course making all these plans that concerned her going back to school for law; and getting rid of the “silly notion” that she was going to do a less than prestigious career. But that was her father, so snobby and callous when it didn’t please him, and Steven was from the same mold.
Once she was dressed she stepped out of the pool house and saw that most of the lights were off in the house. How could she get on her feet when she couldn’t even find a job in the field she’d studied for? Shaking her head to try and clear her thoughts, she padded around the pool and into the house. Everything was still and quiet and the sound of a clock ticking in the background filled the air. She moved through the dark sunroom and into the dining room, but the sound of a gasp stopped her. She stood there for a second, listening to see if she had actually heard it, and then there it was, a low, female moan followed by a male groan. But just as quickly as she heard it the sound stopped. Taking a left into the servants’ quarters, she noticed the pantry door partially
open and soft light coming from the cracks. There was another moan, and then a grunt, and despite Bethany knowing she should leave, she found herself moving closer to the door.
She moved to the side and away from the light, bracing her hand on the doorframe. The sight that she was greeted with sucked the air from her lungs. There was one of the maids against the shelving, with Steven pressed flush with her. His pants were down around his ankles, and the maid had her legs wrapped around his waist. He was fucking her, right there in the kitchen pantry, and they were set to wed in only a few months. Bethany stepped back and moved out of the kitchen and up the stairs to where her bedroom was. Once in the room she shut the door and leaned back against it. She wasn’t upset, wasn’t sad…in fact, she wasn’t much of anything. Her father had been caught being unfaithful, but her mother had turned the other way, more than once. Revealing this to her parents wouldn’t do anything in her favor, and certainly wouldn’t result in the wedding being called off. She needed out, needed to escape, and the longer she put it off the harder it would be in the end.
* * *
She heard waves crashing into the shore, ascending and then retreating back into the ocean just as quickly. That was the sensation inside of Bethany, and when she opened her eyes that feeling intensified with a big dose of vertigo. Before she could stop herself she rolled to the side and emptied the contents of her stomach, which wasn’t much. Dry heaves followed the vomiting, and when her abdominal muscles ached and her throat burned she rolled onto her back once more. She closed her eyes once more, trying to process why she was so sick. Had she drunk too much at the party? Something cool and wet touched her forehead and she jerked back, opening her eyes. But the room was dark, and her vision had yet to adjust to the loss of light. What she did notice was the large looming body right in front of her, the very male presence that came from the person, and the fact that fear was like a living entity inside of her.